


Diligence

by MyBlackCrimsonRose



Series: From Volleyball to Beyond [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (Asexual Identity to Gray-A Identity that's the 'crisis'), Awkward Conversations, Becoming Plant Parents, Bisexual Characters, Canon Compliant, Character Development, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Feels, Fluff, Grey Sexual and Romantic Identities, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Minor Consumption of Alcohol, Minor Sexuality Crisis, Multi, Nationals, Polyamory, Roommates, Slice of Life, University, Volleyball, minor jealousy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBlackCrimsonRose/pseuds/MyBlackCrimsonRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Diligent: constant in effort to accomplish something; attentive and persistent in doing anything." </em> </p><p>How fitting of a word to describe these three. Their relationship was founded upon it. From Kuroo and Tsukishima’s blossoming relationship, to the training that led to the Nationals, to Karasuno’s victory, to that leap from high school to beyond. </p><p>Ushijima was a diligent man. He trained. He trained constantly to be the best that he could be. But… but he was just a man. He was just a man with a new development to his once routine lifestyle. He respected Tsukishima; respected him as a player, as a person. He respected him enough to keep his distance after making his affections known. But the teen's partner, Kuroo, was not making it easy. </p><p>The man was beautiful, it was obvious how those two matched well with each other. Those of beauty tended to mate with other beautiful people. But when the man seems to make it his goal to have Ushijima open up and express his emotions... well, he's tempted. So very tempted.</p><p>[Also known as: How Ushijima walked in to watch the Karasuno vs. Nekoma Nationals match with one crush and walked out of it with two.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One of Nationals

**Author's Note:**

> So I have the individual ships up right now due to the fact that they're not in the poly relationship yet, so until then I'll have the individual ships right now. I want to do this some justice so it'll be gradual. And because of that I should really take the time to explore their different sexualities. 
> 
> Ushijima (in this) is under the Asexuality umbrella (i'm leaning towards Gray-Ace possibly even Gray-Romantic as well though the romantic spectrim for him hasn't really been explored yet). Some things for his sexuality will be taken from my own thoughts of my own experiences so hopefully no one takes the claws to me (i'm a wee bit nervous writing his character). So the "Sexual Identity Crisis" Tag is for the shift from Asexuality to Gray-Ace, but I felt I should add it just in case so we all know what will/may eventually happen. I don't like shit like that to be "shocker" in fics. Like, there's other shock factors that we can throw in instead of that. (I should note Kenma's position as Gray-Romantic/Ace 'cause reasons)
> 
> Tsukishima is homosexual (along with Bokuto, Akaashi, and Asahi). His character tends to shake between that sexuality and Demi in my head all the time but I'm settling with homosexual for this. Kuroo is Bisexual. *shrugs* I see him as another one of my Bi Babes (to go along with Yachi, Yamaguchi, Yaku, and Noya). 
> 
> I just felt like mentioning that. I feel like Ushijima might just go through an identity crisis 'cause he had never felt anything like this. So I felt like I should give a heads up.

They were so used to being here, standing where _they_ stood. Ushijima stared down at the team in black and orange, watching as they celebrated their first victory on the big stage. It had been a long fought battle, but the engine was fired up—their blood pumping steadily in their veins. He stood, ignoring the team mates of his that he had attended with. He’d return in time for the next game, if that was what they were concerned with.

He had matters to see to before that.

\--

“You played well,” he stated, halting before the tall middle blocker. Watching those rich brown eyes swirled with gold widen in shock. It was the only thing that gave him away; that brief moment where his eyes would shine with an emotion before the first year would smoother it.

For the moment the young crow was without his mob. It was just the two of them standing in the hallway; the blond’s team jacket zipped up all the way to his chin. “Ushijima-san,” he voiced his name, “I wasn’t expecting such high praise from you.”

He didn’t exactly know how to talk to him; how does one go from casual conversation to asking for one’s number? Ushijima was used to teammates just taking his phone from him and imputing their number. He never had to ask, they just _did_. “You have talent,” Ushijima admitted, watching the boy’s eyes widen again for just a blink before slipping back into that mask. “But…” he narrowed his eyes at his own mental dialog. It wouldn’t work, he sounded too stiff.

“But?” The blond crossed his arms over his chest, glancing towards the direction of the stairs leading to the stands. “Sorry but can you just ask whatever it is you’re stumbling over? I want to watch the next game.” Nekoma. That’s who was playing next. Ushijima had heard that the two schools were old rivals back in the day.

The super ace pulled out his phone, inhaling quickly before holding it out towards him. “I would like your number.”

The blond haired teen blinked, “are you serious?” Ushijima didn’t reply, figuring that it was just the blond’s way to express his third shock of the brief conversation. Though, the way that his cheeks were beginning to darken with a hint of pink spoke more than just shock. “I…” he glanced between the phone and the direction that would lead him to the match. “Fine.”

He took the phone, adding both his name and number before handing it back. “Please refrain for volleyball related topics. One aggressive character trait is boring; there’s more to life than just this sport.” Ushijima didn’t look up from the new contact sitting pretty on his screen.

**Tsukishima Kei.**

What a beautiful name. So fitting too.

\--

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:**  
_Good evening Tsukishima.  
Congratulations on making it to the second day of nationals. _

**Tsukishima Kei:**  
_Thank you._  
 _Though you already congratulated me earlier._

\--

Kuroo’s face appeared over his shoulder, looking down to the phone in the blond hands that captured his attention. “Ushijima got my number,” Tsukishima voiced, showing the Nekoma captain the two messages (and the symbol that Ushijima was replying with something).

Kuroo’s brow creased, his nose scrunching as he took the blond’s phone from his hand to further read over the brief text. Tsukishima didn’t pick up on when someone had _feelings_ for him—it was a pain to get the first year to even open up to him enough for a prompt reply to his texts. It took months of constant texting that grew to long winded emails that finally bred to skype calls that would last an hour or two.

The first few days of the summer training camp where tough, Kuroo putting his foot where his mouth was—hurting Tsukishima’s feelings was the worst feeling in the world. But by the time where Tsukki became a regular member of the 3rd gym training, their relationship had truly blossomed.

They shared their first kiss, their first date of slipping out and lazing about on the grass in the cool night air where they talked about everything and nothing. It was then that Tsukishima would slip out of his room, out of his comfortable futon and join Kuroo in his.

“He has a crush on you,” Kuroo stated, handing his boyfriend back his phone just as the super ace finally decided on sending whatever it was that he settled on. Kuroo couldn’t blame the guy for it—crushes are weird and Tsukishima is really _really_ pretty. If anything, Kuroo might be a little peeved if the guy _didn’t_ have a fancy for Tsukishima.

Tsukishima’s brow creased much like how Kuroo’s did before him. “I…?” That was another thing about Tsukishima that Kuroo didn’t get. How could he not _know_ how attractive he was? He had talked to Freckles, Shrimp, and their first year manager Yachi about it and Tsukishima got quite a bit of love notes from the girls in his school (too bad for them that Tsukki fancied guys).

The Nekoma player’s arms wrapped around his waist, cushioning Tsukishima’s back against his chest. “I would actually be insulted for you if this guy didn’t fancy you even a bit. I mean you, that Libero of yours, Shrimpy… the three of you turned all expectations of that game on its head. It’s no surprise that he’s reaching out now.”

Tsukishima stared down at the unread message on his screen. “You’re talking this… well.” Of course Kuroo was taking it well! How often does a situation like this come along? How often does a moment where he can stand between his boyfriend and a guy like Ushijima and proudly call himself Tsukishima’s boyfriend—the partner that the blond had chosen himself.

“I don’t think its soon enough for any jealousy,” Kuroo shrugged, “but I will get pissed if he tries to touch you inappropriately—or y’know, _date you_ even though you’re in a relationship.” The blond opened his phone at that, humming his reply.

\--

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _  
It was beautiful. You were beautiful. I thought you should know that._

 **Tsukishima Kei:**  
_I have a boyfriend. I thought you should know._  
 _If that makes it complicated or if you don’t wish to interact with a homosexual then so be it._

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:**  
_That doesn’t change anything._  
 _The fact that you like men doesn’t mean I don’t wish to converse with you any longer._  
 _Though I will refrain from any advances from now on. I apologize for making you (or your partner) uncomfortable._

 **Tsukishima Kei:**  
_He says (to quote) “No Harm. No Foul." And then goes on to say “If anything I’d think there was something wrong with you if you didn’t fancy Tsukki even a lil.”_  
 _Tsk._

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _  
“Tsukki”?_

 **Tsukishima Kei:**  
_My childhood friend called me that then he and Bokuto-san learned the name and neither refuse to quit._  
 _Though it’s better than Glasses-kun._


	2. Day Two for Nationals.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kuroo is very very mellow. Ushijima is still an awkward turtle and meets the cat captain.
> 
> [EDITED: Added another 600+ words. It fits better in this part than the third chapter]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarolonde mentioned "I can see Kuroo being the one most likely to end up poly relationship" and I wholeheartedly agree. 
> 
> For the most part Kuroo actions are all strange even to himself. He doesn't _know_ why he doesn't seem to mind Ushijima having a crush on his "beloved Moonshine" nor does he attempt to grasp why until much later (i.e. after dates 'cause Kuroo works fast damn it). 
> 
> I can't wait to bring up Kuroo's aunts. Tehehehe. Though I will state now that only one of those aunts are blood related. I'll let you assume until then.

**Tsukishima Kei:**  
_Ushijima-san?_  
_… surely you can’t be in bed by ten?_  
_Goodnight._

\--

Ushijima was a dedicated man—well, young man, technically—he kept himself in peek condition no matter. From spring to winter; nothing would stop him from remaining at the peak (not even a cold had graced his presence in the last three years). From running morning and evening before and after practice, going to bed at an early hour and rising early, eating only the healthiest of meals (indulging a cheat treat once every month of a chocolate bar he’d pick up after his nightly run), and lastly he had even devoted a day every week to masturbate after reading that the action would assist in him maintaining a healthy lifestyle.

Before that the action had never appealed to him. Neither did sex. All he had concerned himself with was being the best, _staying_ the best. While his teammates would discuss dates or their classmates they found attractive, Ushijima would ignore it without trouble. He hadn’t been interested in that—‘maybe because he was so focused on volleyball he just tuned out that part’ was one rumor while ‘maybe he’s just waiting for the right girl’ was another.

In all honesty Ushijima wasn't _waiting_ for anyone. He had practice to attend and secondary schools to plan for.

He had his choice of schools to attend, all itching to sink their claws into him. He had his own opinions (ranging from good, bad, and ugly) on where he’d go, and due to his season not yet being finished he had been able to postpone their invitations for a while now—soon they’ll be back. They always returned.

But even with that all in mind here he was taking hold of his phone first thing waking up that morning (later than usual for he had elected to treat himself by sleeping in till seven) to message his new contact. The only person who had entrapped his attention like _this_ —he had no better phrase for it, he didn’t even know what _it_ was.

On one hand he felt relieve when Tsukishima admitted to being attracted to both men and having a significant other. The first thought had been: _he likes guys; he can like me_. And fear struck just as suddenly. His subconscious thoughts frightened him—Ushijima who had never thought that way about anyone. It was good he had a partner; Tsukishima deserved to have a man who was devoted to him. It gave Ushijima another insentive to figure out his own mess of confusion and fear before openly confronting either both or the blond about anything (though he had already admitted that he found the blond blocker pretty—there was nothing wrong with admitting that. His mother had taught him to express admiration towards beautiful things; may it be a person or an object).

 **Ushijima Wakatoshi:**  
_Eat a hearty breakfast._  
_Your match is at 13:15, correct?_

He had the timesheet in front of him at that moment, going over the matches and noting the scores of Karasuno and their opponents of the day. He had left his conversation early with the blond haired blocker, not bothering to give him a goodnight—he should be sleeping by 22:00 seeing that he had played a game the day before and will be playing another today. Sure, he _could_ have said goodnight (he really should have).

How do you go about wishing someone whom you weren’t speaking to familiarly enough with and may have hidden… _feelings_ … for? Added being that this someone has a significant other. It took ten minutes, ten minutes of Ushijima stewing in his own thought before his phone chimed back with a response.

 **Tsukishima Kei:**  
_Dude. Dude no_  
_I’m warning u now that Tsukki is a light sleeper aft’r 5AM and h8s being woken up._  
_¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_  
_Not much u can do_  
_But I tots saved ur life_  
_Oh & hi. Kuroo Tetsurou #1 of Nekoma._

But it was _seven_. Ushijima narrowed his eyes down at the phone. Based off the information from this Kuroo perso—whom Ushijima was willing to bet was either was the childhood friend of his or his significant other based on the message he had left the conversation with the evening before. And the fact that this Kuroo knew about him (but to at what length?) made him…

… confused.

\--

Nekoma was playing another late game that day. Which forced Kuroo to actually study. He should really be attending class—he had time before his game to attend the whole day—but he didn’t. Instead he sat in the stands watching one game after the other, studying his possible opponents. Was it not a Captain’s job to do so?

The Karasuno volleyball team slowly begins to trickle onto the court. The shrimp still bouncing, _vibrating_ really, with excitement to play. Kuroo shifted his attention away from the court just as his beloved moon flower stepped onto it. He glanced around for anyone else who was stricken by the blond’s beauty—he was _gorgeous_ and he just really wanted everyone to notice him. Tsukki deserved it all and more; why was Kuroo the only one that seemed to think like this?

 _Oh hello_. Kuroo grinned, spotting the male that had recently been lighting up Tsukishima’s phone screen. The Nekoma Captain grabbed his bag from the empty seat beside him, Kuroo waltz from his isle to the one across from him to plop down beside the familiar (but still new) face. “Ushijima, what a joy to see you here!”

His fellow third year jolted in a brief and uncharacteristic moment of shock before settling back to his typical unconcerned atmosphere. The causality that he had settled back into it reminded Kuroo of Tsukishima. The Nekoma Captain stretched his legs out in front of him, “they’re an interesting bunch. Those crows,” he nodded down to the team warming up.

Ushijima’s brows furrowed, his gaze returning to focus down at the high schoolers. “You’re Kuroo Tetsurou,” and Kuroo puffed his chest out with that. It’s not every day some big shot high school volleyball dude knew who he was—even if it was simply because he was Tsukishima’s boyfriend. “I don’t wish for there to be—”

Kuroo held his hand up, it effectively silenced the other, “I said I don’t care.” But maybe he should; maybe he should act like how most people his age (and older) would act when another thought their significant other appealing. Maybe he _should_ , it was what normal people would do—but when was Kuroo Tetsurou a _normal_ person? “He’s really _really_ pretty, man. Most days I don’t understand how I got to dating him.”

Kuroo grimaced at that— _wow_ , who wanted to hear this type of shit from the boyfriend of the person you’re crushing on? But Ushijima seemed only stare at him curiously. He had a point that he had planned to reach by talking to him—he had it only _slightly_ planned, but planned nonetheless. “But I should be thanking you. Before that match,” he gestured to Ushijima’s everything, “Tsukishima hadn’t really… found his passion in volleyball. It felt like he was doing in for the sake of a memory or… routine rather than his own drive. Mostly during our practices and night training I would see determination to be better, to _not lose_ but not exactly win.” He thought he was more eloquent than this. “But I watched the recording of the game and… shit, he looked like he had seen it. I hadn’t seen him have that much fun playing volleyball.”

They sat in silence, watching as the opposing team began their warm up spiking drills.

“So you’re a blocker as well.” Kuroo smiled at that—how could you not? At the slight annoyance, the respect, shock. How could you not feel a sense of pride at the swirl of emotion in those six words.

\--

They were sitting together. Of _course_ Kuroo would find him and plop down right beside him without a care in the world. And of course the majority of the Nekoma team seemed to fill the seats around them just before their game was starting. When had they even showed up? 

Shit. Bokuto just showed up as well. 

\--

Kuroo had a way with people; he was… _odd_. Though everyone liked to refer to Kenma as such instead. But then again, they never really got to see the Kuroo under everything—under all those cat like grins, the sarcastic bite, the always watchful gaze. Under it all was a Tetsurou that Kenma had only seen glimpses of (and always towards another); for his place was not in that light, nor did they feel like it _should_ be.

Kenma loved him, truly he did, but the type of love that they shared wasn’t meant to fall within the constraints of said space. They were friends, the closest of friends to the point they could most likely call each other brother and their families would jump on board (though they have already taken to the other as their son). Kenma had felt that familiar feeling in the brief moment where Bokuto, Akaashi (both dating since Akaashi’s first year) and Kuroo had explored the possibility of a polyamorous relationship though the idea had been just as quickly replaced by a more platonic route when Bokuto had trouble sharing Akaashi.  

The whole talk of relationships that _weren’t_ platonic in nature were out of Kenma’s comfort—even the fleeting feelings that he’d have would be harshly stuffed towards the back of his mind in favour of focusing on his latest game.

Yet, here was the feeling again. That feeling that those gears in Kuroo’s head were twisting and spinning so deep within his own subconscious that he hadn’t noticed. Kenma wouldn’t have noticed if it weren’t for an off handed comment he made to the non-Nekoma player sitting with them (though it was more that _they_ were sitting with _him_ ).

Kenma stared down at his dark phone screen when Shoyou stepped off the court and their Libero stepped on.

Maybe he’d convince Yaku to assist him with keeping up to date on whatever it was that Kuroo’s brain was subconsciously conjuring up. ‘Cause Kenma couldn’t be bothered to pick it yet (and Yaku had expressed that his sister is unimpressed with the lack of gossip on his team mates relationships and wants more).

\--

Tomorrow.

 _Tomorrow_.

If— _when_ they won this game they’ll be facing Karasuno. From their reliable Captain to that odd ball duo, their energetic libero and the first year that captured his heart. They’ll play their long awaited rivals at Nationals. Walking onto the court, the Tokyo team fell into an understanding. It was no use thinking about _tomorrow_ if they didn’t make it through _today_. They won’t lose. Kuroo wouldn’t allow it—he’d cut off an ear or _something_ to be able to play those crows tomorrow.

“Kuroo!!!” the Captain’s attention snapped up towards the crowd, to that section that he had been camping out in that whole day and grinned at his bro waving wildly with an enthusiast Hinata by his side. _Poor Akashi_ , the dark haired teen mused. Bokuto was all hyped up, it was only a matter of time before he’d start hooting _properly_.

Yaku followed his gaze, humming at the cheering party in black. “Looks like all of Karasuno are here watching,” he stated, both Kuroo and he glanced towards Kenma just as the setter seemed to ruffle in embarrassment when the orange haired shrimp called his name.

“Ahhh young love,” he winked at Yaku snickering when the other third year smirked back at him in return. Kenma had official left the time of his romantic crisis and reached an understanding—one that Kuroo would not repeat until Kenma came forward to the others first.

Kenma wasn’t the only one willing to fuel Yaku’s need for gossip to share with his little sister. But Kenma didn’t exactly have the blackmail that Kuroo had—Kuroo knew whom the libero fancied. And it was a great effort on his part not to just leap into that mess and push them together—what? Kuroo liked it when his friends are happy, even if that means they’re happy by themselves or with someone else.

The Nekoma Captain turned to the team on the other side of the net, a wide dangerous grin pulling at his lips. At last; Kuroo closed his eyes, tilting his head up towards the overhead lights as his team fell into a warmup. _This is it_. He opened his eyes.

\--

He could see the similarities in them when they played. The Nekoma Captain had the form of a well-practiced blocker, his form solid but flexible. Ushijima never paid any attention to the other teams, only the individual players that would capture his attention—normal while playing them or afterwards.

The other team took the first set; both teams firmly in the 20’s. Ushijima could see the steady build up, the fire being stoked throughout that—they were a team that watched, waited and fired up to where they needed to be. As a whole the team was level headed, no overly outstanding players but no large holes to exploit. That tall first year still needed to work on his receives—something that their opponent was overjoyed to learn.

“Lev still needs to work on his receives,” the dark haired teen sitting on the other side of Tsukishima spoke. His expression bored, hand firmly fisting his companion’s jacket.

Hinata, the one from the concrete (and his team called _him_ dramatic), snickered. “You should practice your receives too! You take more balls to the face than anyone,” their first year setter snarled. The comment made a few of the Karasuno team members snicker—including one Tsukishima Kei.

The back of his hand hid the majority of it but in a brief moment Ushijima could see the curl of his lips, his pearly white teeth paired with his scrunched up eyes. He was adorable.

\--

Daichi leaned forward, a smile growing on his face—it had been growing since the ball dropped for the last time. “Looks like The Battle at the Trash Dump will come true.” The team seemed to buzz with excitement, vibrating in their seats.

 


	3. Pre-Game Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same old Karasuno and Nekoma. Its good to see that SOME things don't change after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had planned it around Nekoma winning and going to Nationals... fuck it i'm not changing it. So now we have the tag of, well, that. So please keep in mind about that. 
> 
> [[EDIT MARCH 3RD:: new chapter came out and i'm now laughing. Tweeked a paragraph or two. HAHAHAHAHA!]]
> 
> The Ushijima link in their relationship won't really appear until after Nationals. Gotta build that up, but don't worry. It'll happen and it'll be beautiful. I have so many cute headcanons for these three that I want to do it justice by not rushing into the romance so we'll focus on the volleyball aspect a little more until I can't anymore.

“This rivalry,” Ushijima begins, pausing to look down at Tsukishima. Even if it was just a centimetre, it felt like more with the larger-than-life aura that surrounded him. Even in defeat Tsukishima felt that the older teen still had that wave of well-earned superiority around him. “How does it affect your relationship?” He wasn’t concerned; he didn’t know either to warrant that emotion. More curious. Rivalries weren’t something pleasant—at least not to _him_.

And Ushijima didn’t know enough about relationships in general to form an opinion on it either.

Tsukishima frowned. “It doesn’t affect our game or play styles. We wouldn’t have made it this far if our teams had held back against friends.” Those friends being more for his teammates than for himself.

The game between owls and cats would hang over his head as a reminder—Nekoma had nearly lost. Well, they did technically. It was in the second match up that they won that had advanced them provided them the assist they needed to Nationals. The first set had gone to Fukurōdani (twenty-five to Nekoma’s twenty-one), the second set Kuroo had explained that Bokuto forgot how to cross spike and they were able to squeak out with a thirty point win. _“The idiot owl scored with a cross right at the end—the fucker.”_ Tsukishima could hear the frustrations dripping from his speech. 

A lot of mistakes had been made in that match, a lot was learned. Kuroo nearly had a heart attack during that time—nearly a few times in fact. But it had steeled not only _his_ but _his team’s_ resolve to uphold their promise to meet them at Nationals. “ _I wanted to play you. That’s all was thinking about at the end.”_

Ushijima’s brow creased in confusion, still not seeing the appeal. He shook his head, “then I shall be looking forward to that match.” The third year had plans earlier that day—a University to make an appearance on. He had originally wished to check out the campus today but his day of relaxation made him more lethargic than expected and he remained in bed for a far longer time than he wished just reading one of his books he had downloaded. But he still had his actually appointment for tomorrow to take his tour.

Tsukishima nodded.

\--

He doesn’t expect anyone to come knocking on his hotel door. He doesn’t expect Yamaguchi to waggle his brows before slipping out of the room and sleeping on someone’s couch (or which someone else, who knows) to give Tsukishima some privacy with Kuroo. He doesn’t expect Kageyama, Hinata and Yachi to settle in in their hotel room with their homework and emails from their teachers that they have assignments to do and turn in once they return.

Tsukshima had thought of _talking_ to his teachers before then and finishing his homework in the comfort of his own home without worry. But, the fact that they (and he includes Yamaguchi in this as well) even asked for their teachers to email their work load to them showed some maturity. Even if they did look to both Yachi and he for assistance. The blond male snorted, covering his ears with his large (expensive) headphones in an effort to drown out their talk.

Their laughter could still be heard over his music, over the playlist that Kuroo had assembled for him one afternoon when they were together. He could remember watching the older teen go through his vast music list, carefully assembling a nice mix of genres before dragging his own computer out and transferring some of his music over to complete it. For some reason Kuroo had a few French songs in this list—they sounded enjoyable enough that Tsukishima would revisit them.

The blond’s eyes fell shut, body curling in on himself as he settled under his throw blanket that he always brought with him. He liked it. It was comfortable, it was soft. He had a nasty habit of curling up around something and it was better if he curled around the blanket than a pillow—he wasn’t able to bring one of his bed companions (they’re _not_ stuffed animals. They’re _dinosaurs_ ). He tuned out the laughter, the loud chatter, focusing on the slow soft tone of the music.

In his mind eye numbers appeared, his latest mathematics worksheet playing through head. It wasn’t the greatest of pastimes, sure, but it was better than sitting down to study for hours at a time. He’d repeat sections of books that he had read like that, going over the possible meanings that his teachers would attempt to draw from the literature. Tsukishima’s eyes slowly opened when he felt something nudge against his mattress, rich brown eyes snapping towards the person standing above him.

“What the fu—?!” Tsukishima caught himself, pulling his headphones down around his neck while pushing himself up to a seated position. The other first years in the room pointedly looked away, fighting with their growing grins and snickers.

The older boy shrugged, “now Moonshine. Can’t you see I’m fraternizing with the enemy?” The elder waggled his dark brows, “so can I come to bed or do I have to cuddle with Freckles tonight?”

Kuroo’s hair was messier than it had been earlier; fluffy and damp from what Tsukishima hopped had been a late evening shower and not sweat. Even after showers his bedhead remained… messy. He truly was cursed with it. His brown eyes dropped to take in the rest of the third year’s appearance; black sweat pants, a black tank top lacking any typical flare of a design or phrase. His Nekoma volleyball jacket missing (it was on top the bag he had set at the foot of the bed).

“Fine.” He pulled his headphones back on, laying back down on his bed and ignoring his boyfriend and… well, his _friends_. He can say that he enjoyed them more than he had at the beginning of the year; their annoying character quirks slowly becoming… endearing. At least compared to the endless energy of Bokuto (he felt bad for Akaashi for having to deal with him every day). The bed dipped as Kuroo slid in behind him, pulling his throw blanket up high enough for him to spoon against the blond.

Tsukishima wouldn’t admit it, not openly at least, that he enjoyed having Kuroo sleep next to him. The older teen was warm, comfortable and made an excellent bed partner. He didn’t steal the covers, surprisingly, just the pillows. And he was more than willing to give up an arm or chest or back (or whatever body part) to pillow Tsukishima’s head instead. He felt safe and comfortable with him, something that always confused him. It had taken two years for Tsukishima to grow comfortable enough sleeping at Yamaguchi’s house that he wouldn’t wake at even the tiniest of odd noises—even then he couldn’t share a bed with his best friend.

Warm fingers pressed against his cheek, ghosting over his skin and gently pulling his headphones from over his ears. “I’m changing the ‘phones,” Kuroo whispered, the odd ball duo in the background had started arguing again who was the stupidest—it was hard for Tsukishima to say. They were both idiots.

Tsukishima nodded, watching as Kuroo set his headphones on the unused pillow and pulled out tiny stuff-in-your-ears headphones that most people used. The older teen slide on of the earbuds in Tsukishima’s ear before doing the same to himself, plugging it into his phone and hitting play. Tsukishima’s eyes widened at the song began to play, suddenly remembering that _this_ was the playlist that Kuroo made him—and by the shutter from the male behind him as he chuckled, Kuroo picked up on this fact as well.

\--

The third day at Nationals would be different than the last two. Instead of only playing one game the winner would move on to play a second later on in the evening. At first there were enough teams to only play once; from afternoon to evening the games would run. With only one court being used it allowed for more time for teams to kill between games.

But that would no longer be the case. Things were starting to condense, tension was rising and all they could do was hold on. Hold on a fight their hardest. For this could be their last game this season—could be their last game playing with these people.

\--

Red and Black mingled together, voices rising and falling as they bantered back and forth. The energy buzzing around them, excitement nipping at their nerves. They’ve been waiting for this very moment their whole season.

“We’re going to win,” Hinata exclaimed grabbing Nekoma’s setter and holding his jacket tight. Kenma’s lip twitched in amusement, his cat-like eyes sparkling with more life than usual.

Yamamoto face appeared over Kenma’s shoulder, “Oh? You think so Shrimpy?” Lev’s smiling face appeared over the other; his large hand patting the top of Hinata’s head.

“You won’t be able to block me,” Lev stated, hand still patting the tiny crow’s fluffy orange hair much to the growing amusement of The Cats and the annoyance of The Crows.

“Then I’ll score MORE than you!” Hinata shouted, batting the pale teen’s hand away with a huff. His eyes burning with determination. Kuroo found it endearing of the Shrimp; how he had such bountiful energy.

Daichi sighed beside his fellow Captain. “Looks like they’re at it again,” just as Noya and Tanaka joined the mix, Kageyama creeping in closer to Hinata like he tended to do. His gaze snapping between his partner-in-crime and the setter; he always got so touchy about other setters.

Kuroo nodded, “get it out of their systems now before we crush you. Can’t have big heads going out there.” His eyes narrowed, lip twitching further upwards when the male beside him perked up. Kuroo held his hand out between them, that cheeky grin still stretched upon his lips as a cool tension began seeping from Daichi’s being.

His hand gripped Kuroo’s in a painful, solid shake. “Don’t cry when you lose,” the Karasuno Captain ground out, dark eyes narrowed as both Captains’ began to tighten their hold. Veins beginning to bulge.

Yaku and Sugawara sighed, their fists held up between them. _One… two… three_. Yaku sighed holding up his flat hand while Suga’s forefinger and middle finger were outstretched in a pair of scissors. “Send Tsukishima instead?” Yaku tried, not really wanting to leave the comfort of the cushioned bench that Suga and he were seated upon. The fair haired teen nodded.

“Tsukishima-kun!” he called. The blond haired boy jerked out of his musing, his face still half covered by his knees that had pillowed his head moments before. Suga jerked his head towards the two Captains; “go break them up.”

The teen scowled, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “Tetsurou!” he snapped, brow creasing when the Nekoma Captain jumped. Kuroo’s eyes widened, dropping his hold of Daichi’s hand to run over to join his boyfriend. His cheeks coloured with just a touch of rose— _Tsukki called me by my first name_. “Sit.” Tsukishima glared, pointing to the spot between Yamaguchi and himself. His brown haired friend still napping with their blond haired manager quietly reader beside him.

She had been reading to him before, helping to ease his pre-game jitters.

Kuroo sat, fingers weaving together in his lap. He sat straight as a pin, eyes forward as Tsukishima leaned against his side. His head falling against his shoulder as he settled back down for a nap. It was another hour until their game and he was nervous, excited—Kuroo could tell with how his breath shook as he exhaled. “Just… stay here and sit down for a bit,” Tsukishima murmured, their teams continued to pump each other up. Arguing amongst themselves on how they’d perform—that the other would lose and they’d play again in the evening.

Kuroo nodded, “yeah I can do that.”


	4. Karasuno vs. Nekoma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a headcanon that eventually Tsukishima becomes a service ace as well, but that he learned that from Kuroo as well. So, to explain /why/ Kuroo hasn't been one in the manga I'll just state "he hasn't perfected it until now and with Lev he doesn't want anymore possible mistakes". 
> 
> Even normal overhand serves fuck up so I don't blame the guy for being conservative when they have a player who hasn't completely found their footing yet. Plus, do you think that Bokuto and Kuroo would share /everything/ with their little birdling underlings? They're still rivals so you wanna save some things. 
> 
> (Sorry, I just used to play a lot of sports before fucking up my ankles too much that sport animes just hurt my heart a bit)

“Line up!”

Their shoes squeaked, they bowed wishing the other for a good match—not like they’d need it. Both Lev and Hinata seemed to vibrate in their shoes, their eyes darting around and locking despite both being in the back at that moment. If all went well they’d meet in middle like their positions were meant to suggest.

Kenma stared down at the bottom of the net with a frown upon his lips, standing across from him was Tsukishima in all quiet and tense glory. Kuroo grinned at him from his spot beside Kenma, “show me all your tricks, my little firefly.”

Tsukishima stared at him, top lip pulling up into a grimace. “I’m taller than you are, Kuroo-san.”

The third year shuttered with glee. “I love it when you add the ‘-san’ to my name. Makes me all flustered.”

Tsukishima’s nose continued to scrunch up before steeling with a heavy exhale. “…Hopefully that will serve as a momentary distraction then.” His lips tugged up into the barest hint of a grin, eyes twinkled behind his lens. The whistle blew and all relationships were paused, postponed for after the match.

There were no harsh words, no smug bolstering, and no more stink eyes. When that whistle blew a calm swept over the court, an electric charge shocking the players into action. It was the moment they’ve been waiting for since they first met. Since that first introduction of cats and crows.

The ball flew up, was struck and sailed over the net. “I got it!” Noya called, poised and there. His legs rooted as he bumped the ball up, towards the setter position with well-practiced ease. After all the teams they’ve played against with jump servers, a simple overhand like that felt easy. There were people on Nekoma that could serve on a jump, but this… this was different. It felt like they were just warming up, slowly revving up the engine. They’ll need to get ahead before those ever watchful eyes pick them apart, before the game became more chess-like than intended.

Every move they made they could feel eyes moving from one to the other, boring into their being and piecing them apart. Their opponent was different than what they faced last time, different than what they’ve ever faced before as well. The fact that they’ve spent so long together practicing against the other was a risk for the Karasuno team. They liked their surprises, liked their quick plays to break through or around the block. But Nekoma was fluid, a few had _honed_ in a few of their members talents and had help build upon others.

It was unfair in that way; that Nekoma knew so much about them but any secretes that Nekoma had was locked away and seldom shown. Any of these _secretes_ slowly eased out in ways that made it seem like there was no ultimate weapon. The only thing that could cause ripples was Lev. Lev was one of Tsukishima’s targets for this match—he wanted to break him down and play with his head. Show that kitten not to mess with a murder of crows (and certainly not their chicks).

“Here it comes,” Kuroo smirked, sharp golden eyes sweeping over the four players moving all at once. His gaze refocused on the ball, those few seconds gave him a moment to gauge just how they were coming at it—but he was not a guess blocker. He could read people, yes, though maybe not to the abilities of Kenma but there was an art of briefly making eye contact with a person just before they hit the ball. A ball that you would then block.

Kuroo wasn’t a nice guy. He’d chime and sing himself praise, claiming that he was a saint but the truth was that he was sin. Horribly wicked. Horribly, _horribly_ wicked. Kuroo winked, his palm stinging upon contact as the ball fell to the court on their side. Their Ace glared at him, nostrils flared. His eyes spoke in height, rising to the challenge that was Kuroo Tetsurou.

“Nice kill.”

Daichi huffed, “don’t mind. Kuroo’s just being a jerk.” He patted his fellow third year on the back, his words not yet lessening the tightness of Asahi’s jaw. The first spike of the game; it happens, but what else did you expect when the cats and crows go at it?

Their field is the trash heap after all, and trash was not pretty.

\--

Whatever Ushijima was expecting from that match, _this_ wasn’t it. Now, he was a man that was trained, hard and honed to play as an offensive piece on the court. Ushijima didn’t _have_ to receive, he didn’t have to play defensively. His team’s way of handling it always revolved around him just hitting the ball, to break through the wall, and just _score_.

But there was always something beautiful about a fluid receive. A steady block.

He could see Kuroo in Tsukishima’s style now that he watched them play. He could tell that they’ve trained together, played against each other and _with_ each other. The Nekoma Captain was fluid, worthy of that nickname that the other schools gave them. They were very much like cats, their Captain and Setter were strong examples of that.

The whistle blew again. The ball smacked against the floor. Another whistle.

Since that fateful match against Karasuno, Ushijima had never felt his heart beat as fast as it did this very moment. He had thought Oikawa’s setting was beautiful, it made him feel _alive_ just to think about hitting one of his tosses. But that hadn’t come close to that match with Karasuno and Tsukishima. And now… watching those two… those two.

 _Those two_.

Ushijima stood from his seat, leaving his jacket on there before storming out. His hand gripped his shirt over his heart tightly; why did it beat so fast? _Why?_ Why now?

Why those two?

\--

_We need to win this set._

There was no doubt that both teams thought this very thing upon entering the court again. The score showing the beginning of the second, the first going to Nekoma. Daichi glared at the Captain on the other side of the net, huffing when those sharp golden eyes snapped to him and held his gaze.

“It doesn’t end here,” he stated, voice carrying over his team. They perked up, a fire igniting in their bellies. Stoking the fire in their gullets. They _will_ go on to that next match later this evening, and they _will_ go home with the title of Champions. _Winners_.

Their last year will end on a high. It’ll end with a victory and a bitter sweetness to wish their underlings an even greater year the next one. Daichi would get them there, he’ll get his team to the finals and to the golden moment for that title.

He’ll leave on a high.

A high.

\--

You build upon a sturdy foundation; receiving. If you can get it you can send it back, you can kill it. You fill in that sturdy foundation when the time slowly forms cracks in it, little tiny openings that quickly become non-existent anew.

Upon that foundation to build your walls, your tall strong walls; blocking. Those _windows_ covered and protected. You read about all these natural disasters and how some houses are just _there_. Maybe a few scruff marks, maybe the insides are all shaken and stirred—but that outside is _there_. It’s there despite everything around them being levelled to the ground.

Karasuno didn’t have a natural disaster, at least not one that could be classified as one yet. The odd ball duo was more of a storm. A rainstorm that’ll splatter against those walls, drip upon the foundation and be shrugged off like another rainstorm. A dime-a-dozen.

They weren’t like The Great Iron Wall. They didn’t aim to kill the ball, not constantly. If they didn’t outright knocking it down, they softened it. Sending it back with enough force to rattle their slowly fortifying defenses.

_They were a bad match for them._

Kuroo stepped up to the serving position, accepting the ball with a soft smile that quickly fell just as quickly as it appeared. Tsukishima watched from the side of the court, Noya standing firmly in-between Asahi and Daichi, watching the guy he had just spent the morning with shift before his very eyes. Kuroo had always reminded him of a cat, but a _house cat_ —a pampered clingy house pet. But the feline that Kuroo adapted to has nothing like that.

His golden yellow eyes flickered from Daichi to Noya and finally to Asahi before licking his lower lip. He spun the ball in his hand, backing from the line. His long legs made the distance longer, from Tsukishima view it looked far too long. The two in front of the net quickly covered the back of their heads, eyes closed and lips mumbling a prayer.

The whistle blew.

Kuroo exhaled, inhaled once more and tossed the ball up and far forward. It was high as he went to run up to it. His posture loose, fluid. His steps made no sounds, but the _power_ behind each step showed. It was beautiful even before he leaped; Kuroo could jump, boy could he jump. Tsukishima _knew_ that by just watching the guy play. But there was just something… just _something_ weird about it, maybe it was the grace on how he transitioned from running to jumping and _hitting_.

It stole his attention away from the ball; each muscle twitching, shifting. Those golden irises sharp, an animal like instinct clear as his gaze honed in who he was aiming for right before the person could catch the ball’s trajectory.

_First you break the legs._

The ball smashed to the court, Asahi’s fingers twitching in confusion in front of him. His gaze locked onto the spot the ball landed against. “We can’t let all our secrets slip during practice games,” Kuroo called from the other side of the net, rolling his shoulders and neck. His hand held out ready for the ball to be handed back to them.

“Don’t be so smug, you just perfected it before Nationals,” Kenma mumbled, starting down at his fingers. He’s been biting at the cuticles again around his thumb nail. Kuroo preened, smiling slyly down at his partner-in-crime. “Nice serve,” the setter sighed finally leveling his gaze up at him.

The ball rolled back under the net, back to Kuroo who accepted it with a wicked grin. Again he tongue appeared, licking at his chops. That swagger already slipping into his walk as he made his way to the line and then back stepping to where he was before. His gaze roamed over the court as his team settled back in close to the net with their hands protecting their heads.

The whistle blew.

_First you break the legs…_

He tossed the ball up. High, forward. Much higher than the last

_Then the arms…_

He ran, jumping with all the gusto he could provide. A seamless transition between that run-up and leap. The momentum carried him, he lingered in the air moments longer after contact. His breath stolen as he hung, golden eyed gaze staring at the spot on the court that the ball would go to.

Like snapshots, like someone had been filming a stop animation feature, the ball fell in little moments frozen in time. The players reacting to the drastic change in miniature fractions. Again the ball slammed against the floor without a touch, this time in the front right. The complete opposite position as the last one.

Right behind Tanaka and three steps in front of Daichi.

Kuroo’s serve wasn’t powerful like Oikawa or Ushijima—not yet. He had power, yes, but not that blinding, gut clenching panic when you see the windup and that ball coming towards you. No, you got sucked in by the grace, the still lingering confusion of _Kuroo never used to be a service ace_ , and then that golden eyed stare that’ll catch you in a fraction of a second. In that moment something would switch, flipping a stall button that’ll make you analyse your flight or fight instinct.

That very same gaze swept over to Kageyama. Blue met gold, and the crow swallowed. It felt like he was staring down the eyes of a predator. Kuroo broke first, eyes closing to smile towards Karasuno as his team congratulated him on another no touch service ace.

The whistle broke, “Karasuno time out!”

Kenma and Kuroo shared a pleased look between them. The Nekoma Captain patting their Setter on his shoulder.

_Next we remove the head._


	5. Defeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It could have really been added to the other chapter but *shrugs* ahhh well.

They lined up, bows lower than normal. Their heads hung low as they marched off the court to wind down away from ever watchful eyes. They couldn’t cry out for _just one more set_ , couldn’t shrug it off like it was just a practice match. It wasn’t. This was real and they lost.

They _lost_.

 _They_ lost.

Nekoma beat them.

But even that gut wrenching pain swept into a calm peace as soon as the wind hit their watering eyes and scowled faces. They’ll no doubt eat another salt infused meal that evening. They’ll no doubt glare at them bitterly next time they faced off, the new generation battling it out for not only their own revenge but for their seniors.

“You did well Tanaka. They were picking on you a lot more in that second set,” Daichi’s voice carried over them and their corner of grass that they sat spread out upon. Stretching out their muscles. The match was over in two sets—just two sets and the cats were off to play their next game in two hours.

“I could have—!”

“Oi!” Noya shouted, gathering the group’s attention. That and the loud slap against his best friend’s back might have done the trick as well. “You can save _everything_. Those stupid cats have always been trouble for us. As much as it pisses me off that we lost, this won’t be the last time we face them. We’ll get them back—we’ll _double_ their score next year!”

Tanaka’s face grew pensive, lips pursed in thought.

“We did all that we could have done at that time. Sure, we could have done things differently—you can always improve even when you’re at what you think is your best. But never once have I blamed one of you, and never will I.” Daichi sighed running his hand through his hair. There was no time for tears just yet, not for the Captain and not at this moment. “We learned a lot from Nekoma and they learned a lot from us in return. But today you shouldn’t feel sorrow, disappointment sure, but you guys are a fine team and I’m proud. Of all of you, of all your abilities.  

You’re just first and second years, you have some growing left to do. Even us,” he gestured to his fellow third years, “we’re not finished improving. We’ve got a long way to go still till we can come close to our peak.” He crossed his arms, his dark eyed gaze befalling upon each and every individual player. One after the other he looked to them with pride clear and bright. “We’ve gone through a lot to reach this point. I’ve seen you all grow and change; some I can hardly recognise from the guys that I met at the beginning of this year. Never stop that momentum. Never look back and never take that step back.

To fly you need to push forward. We’ve put Karasuno back up there, we’ve proven that we’re no flightless crow. We’ve made it to Nationals, and next year you better damn win it too.” The Karasuno Captain bowed his head, his hands now falling to his lap. “Thank you for making this year my best. I’m truly proud to call you all my teammates and my friends.”

An aura of silence hung heavy around them before tears sprayed out from eyes and a loud collective wail of “Daichi!!” could be heard before the majority of the Karasuno team leapt upon their Captain and a heartbreaking cry fest began.

Only two students remained out of their peers’ entanglement. Kiyoko sat, her glasses fogged to the point of no return, tears sluggishly slipping down her cheeks as she sat with her hand to her mouth. She had been so proud of them, she _was_ so proud of them. She only wished that she could give them everything and more. And Tsukishima was the other; his hand covered his face, his equally foggy glasses as he bit back tears. He had to walk back in there with his head held high to watch Kuroo play—they had made a promise and Tsukishima Kei wasn’t going to go back on that even though he was disappointed in himself.

The awe of Kuroo’s new serves now finally wearing off.

They’ll have more words to share later, along with the announcement of the new Captain. But it’ll wait until they returned to school—tomorrow. They were still the same team until tomorrow.

\--

Nekoma lost their next match. Both teams in those two sets reaching into the twenties. Kuroo had kept his lips tightly pulled into a small weak smile as he talked to his team, as he listened to their coach and bowed to the other team.

He kept that expression even when Nekoma and Karasuno met again, friends now instead of opposition. He kept it as he pressed a solid hand against Lev’s back and led him away from two teams when he began to weep. Apologizing for every action, every miss and every spike that was blocked. The Nekoma captain only shook his head, leading him away and out of sight to comfort the first year.

They had made reservations earlier for both teams at a restaurant close to where the Karasuno team was staying; knowing full well that one team would be somber. Tsukishima had taken a seat next to his boyfriend, eyeing him throughout the meal.

That little smile never left. It never wavered.

It stuck strong even as his own team fell apart around him.

Tsukishima had leaned in, somewhere close to the end, to share a private comment with him. “You can cry if you want. No one would judge you.” Kuroo scoffed, shaking his head.

“Why would I cry when I have my team around me and the boy that I love worried about me?” He whispered back. His obscenely fake smile still present, still firm and account for. The only thing that changed was the knowledge that it would fall as soon as he’d find himself alone.

Tsukishima couldn’t tell what was worse.


	6. Chuo University

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to the point where its Kuroo-Ushijima. I can honestly picture these two getting along. I really do. Ushijima needs to just let loose a bit, get comfortable and socialize~ 
> 
> I'm thinking of having some other memorable faces show up and form Kuroo's new posse seeing as Bokuto didn't get in to the same school. BUT HE WILL BE CLOSE BY! If you've read the other fics in this series you'll notice that OT3 here live with both Kenma and the Bokuaka couple eventually. Its all just a matter of time~
> 
> I'm working on a side story with IwaKage for this au. Seeing that this is me exploring my other ships (that aren't exactly popular) I'll just say now that IwaKage and eventual TanaYachi will be showing up somewhere either in this or in side stories. I just felt like I should warn you. 
> 
> I have a multishipper heart and most people don't have a "one and only" and some do. This is mostly a story about how three dudes have two "forever ever afters" and other than that *shrugs* I'm just having fun!

Finals. Exams. Things tumbled out of control once they returned empty handed from Nationals. The third years retired without much fanfare, just a quiet affair where the Excitable Three bawled their eyes out and demanded that they come back to visit.

There was some little _meet up_ type of event where Daichi bought pork buns for the team and they ate together after school. Something about “the last time they’ll do this as a team” though they had technically already retired.

High School concluded. It was uneventful. All Tsukishima could do now was bide his time with Yamaguchi and give in to his other peers demands of accompanying them when they hung out together. Why did he have to befriend a guy that’ll turn out to be so friendly? The weeks blurred together. The now second year high school student pulled along in a stream of activity.  

His break went along the lines of this:

“Let’s go play volleyball!” They played volleyball.

“Let’s go hang out at my house!” They walked all the way to Yachi’s apartment and spent the day playing videogames and watching movies. Hinata throwing popcorn at the screen when something happened that he didn’t agree with.

“Let’s go on an adventure!” By adventure they meant to a park where Kageyama threw a whole slice of bread at a duck and Tsukishima spent the next thirty minutes recording their Setter getting attacked by the bird (the fact that they had ducks this season was an oddity within itself. Maybe the Universe just wanted Kageyama to get his ass laid out by the water fowl). Kuroo had called crying in laughter once he had finally checked his email, Nishanoya replied back with a picture of both he and Tanaka crying hysterically, and Ushijima only inquired what he had done to warrant such a reaction from the animal (that and Tsukishima’s family replied back along the similar lines as he did). It seems that he had sent the video to his full contact list.

It seems that Kuroo’s habit off mass texting is in fact infectious. Shame.

The next time Kuroo calls him it’s with news that he got accepted for his first choice of Chuo University for Law (and just _wow_ ). His athletic scholarship and placement on the volleyball team was approved as well. He had called while Tsukishima was out grabbing something to eat with their group (he wasn’t comfortable in calling Kageyama and Hinata _friends_ ), the noise they made when he relayed the news was deafening. They were a champion school and of course Tsukishima was proud of him.

The difficult part would be finding a moment during their break for Tsukishima to go visit him. Kuroo planned on moving into his dorm earlier than most after it was approved due to his parents having to go leave the country for a whole month to tend to a family member overseas. “I have a roommate who’s also a volleyball player,” Kuroo had told him later once he called again later that very day.

“Are you going to go shopping for lamps?” Tsukishima teased, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his own clichés. But Kuroo was a walking cliché; he was a cat, a large human imbodiment of one who waxed romantic jargon that Tsukishima couldn’t be bothered to remember most days (though he’d firmly deny blushing about them).

“MAYBE!” The male had shouted back before dropping that line of conversation and launching himself into a rant of mindless excitement over the fact that he was going to Chuo. **Chuo**. He had just ended up whispering the name over and over again to himself once the clock neared 10PM. Tsukishima’s minutes ticking upwards towards the two and a half hour mark.

The blond just let him go. Just smiling shyly at the mental image of Kuroo laying in his bed staring up at his ceiling in a daze, a goofy grin marring his face. Yeah, Tsukishima had it bad.

\--

He had been pinning up his last poster when a knock sounded on the door before the knob turned and in walked a male taller than Kuroo. They stared at each other, shock evident. “Well this is some shoujo manga shit,” Kuroo finally broke. Shattering the momentary silence as the new roommates eyeballed one another. Falling back onto his made bed as his roommate continue to stare, Kuroo assessment of the other long completed.

Kuroo could almost picture the other’s brain slowly rebooting. A loading bar filling with the login in features before blinking back into the familiar screen where Kuroo waited. The comparison to a computer was not lost upon him, and Kuroo did feel bad about it. Dude was just a little awkward with social interaction, was from a little country town, and no doubt stuck to himself and volleyball.

After all this guy was _him_.

The great super ace standing before him.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” the male voiced, gaze finally moving to take in the room. It was a plain two bed room with a large window taking up a large portion of one wall between the two beds. They had a corner room, and thus it was slightly bigger than some of their neighbours’. Half of the room decorated in reds and blacks, band posters and cat figures. The closet door open and Kuroo’s clothes hanging off the hangers and stuffed into see-through Tupperware containers. They didn’t have a dresser but a large enough closet for two and shelving within that to hold whatever.

“So the great Ushijima Wakatoshi was surprised by wee lil’ me?” Kuroo grinned, batting his eye lashes up at the male he’d learn to be his roomie. “Oh I’ve got to plaster this all over the internet! We’ll have to name it something catchy.” They could have their own web-series. Become Youtube sensations.

Maybe Tsukishima would watch them.

Ushijima allowed the male to continue, pulling his phone out in silence he fired off a message to the male’s significant other. What was it? A simple inquiry on how to turn off the motor that ran Kuroo’s mouth. In his brief meetings with the former Nekoma Captain he had always been less talkative than this, but it was always in a less intimate setting than this.

Maybe he was nervous? His mother had informed him that when some were confronted with unknown circumstances they could freeze up, bolt, or let out a stream of unconscious thoughts. Maybe this was the latter—though why would he be nervous?

“So you’re almost a month early to be moving in,” Kuroo’s steady voice, slightly raised in volume, broke through his musing.

“The coach would like me to begin practicing as soon as possible,” he replied. An easy question deserved a simple reply. “Though I will not be _moving in_ for another week. I was told that my roommate had already moved his things in so I felt the need to introduce myself—but it seems there was no need.” His gaze swept over Kuroo’s side of the room again.

His gaze settling on a framed picture of Kuroo with Tsukishima, the blond’s eyes clenched shut in a captured moment of vulnerability as Kuroo pressed a kiss to his cheek. Those pale cheeks tinted with just the hint of pink blush.

Kuroo followed his gaze, golden eyes blinking with confusion at the picture before his whole face, his whole _body_ , seemed to relax. His eyes closed, crooked lips evening to a soft smile as he regarded his roommate. “Kei really hates that picture, but he’s pretty. Right?” There was not sense of testing, not hidden anger within those golden orbs as those eyes opened again.

The light made him look eternal. Heavenly. Ushijima was reminded by the panic, that haunting moment while watching the other play. That very moment he found him beautiful as well. Ushijima licked his lips, gaze darting away and back to the side of the room that he’d claim next week. “Don’t let him throw it out.”

It wasn’t just Tsukishima who looked dashing in that photo but the owner himself. Ushijima was able to pick up each long dark eyelash, that hint of a grin on those puckered lips, the softness of his hair—they made a very attractive couple.

\--

**??:** _  
Heyyyyyyyyy Buddy~ Its your new roomie_

**Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _  
Ah. Kuroo_

**Kuroo:** _  
So wanna grab something to eat after you move in? I’ve found a fuckin’ A++ place just a walk away_

**Ushijima Wakatoshi:** _  
I suppose_


	7. Ushijima & Kuroo go'a shoppin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and Tsukki won't say that's he's jealous. No way in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ushi your crush is showing. You're so belovedly awkward and I love it so~~ 
> 
> This chapter just wrote itself so this is more along the lines of "sorry for taking so long". Unfortunately its going to be Kuroo & Ushijima together for awhile while Tsukki is hanging with his people from Karasuno. Train tickets are expensive so i can't have him constantly going back and forth even though his parents have money (I've looked into this okay! Tsukki is from a well off family. Compared to some they may call him a "rich kid" but yeah... he's set.)

Being in the company of one Kuroo Tetsurou was surprisingly easy; he handled silence well, he handled a noisy atmosphere well. Whatever Ushijima found themselves surrounded in, that boy seemed to soak it up and mould himself in with his surroundings. It had taken Ushijima two weeks after moving into his dorm to familiarize himself enough with the other that just sleeping in the same room was growing comfortable.

Kuroo was a scattered sleeper—he never slept for long, more naps than anything else. He’d nap during the night to give Ushijima at least three hours without a source of light to bother him, before waking and pulling out his phone and hiding under his covers to do whatever it is that he would pass the time doing. He’d also nap at least once during the day with the curtains wide open and the window cracked, allowing the cool air into the room as he napped.

In those two weeks Ushijima had noted that the male would only sleep for a maximum of six hours a day—having being able to keep track as school had not yet started and Ushijima didn’t feel like venturing out onto campus to quote-and-quote “explore” like many other freshmen would no doubt do once move in day arrived.

Another thing he noticed was the quiet almost, dare he say, _kitten-like_ snores the male would release during his naps during the daylight hours. The sound had nearly lulled Ushijima into his own midday nap on a number of (embarrassing) occasions. It had certainly stolen his attention away from his readings on the latest gardening tips that he found on the great wide web as well as his mental planning(s) on where to set up his indoor garden within their room—he still needed to bring it up with his roommate if he’d allow some ferns, cacti, and maybe a few more flora.

Their room wasn’t exactly large enough to hold as many vegetation as he’d wish, and he may not be able to produce his own produce, but the faint aroma of soil and _green_ made him feel at peace. Surely Kuroo wouldn’t be too opposed to it?

“You’ve been staring at the lip of our window since I woke up dude—that was like, ten minutes ago.” Ushijima tore his attention away from the window he hadn’t even noticed to be stared acutely at to his roommate still snugly tucked under his plaid comforter. The male in question only smiled, “what’s up?”

“Plants.” Kuroo’s lips pursed, brow crinkling in confusion. “I was thinking of purchasing some plants to tend to. I wanted to check for any allergies beforehand.” There. It could have been smoother, yes, but the question was poised and he seemed to have stressed the issue enough of his wish for them. Right? Or did he come across as rude?

Kuroo pushed himself up from his comfort of blankets and pillows (that man had seven pillows on his bed and Ushijima couldn’t fathom how he could function with that many), his gaze swept towards the window ledge that Ushijima had been staring at beforehand. “I’m warning you now that I have a bit of a black thumb. Plants don’t like staying alive with me no matter how I try.” He grimaced clearly embarrassed by the issue so Ushijima didn’t bother to comment. “I’m better with animals, but if you want some then sure. Just don’t expect it to live long if you go away and expect me to take care of it—I’ll try but it may not like me.”

The bashful smile that Kuroo sent his way had his heart beating faster, racing blood quicker through his veins. He could feel himself give the other a small grateful smile in return, a thank you for accepting such a small important thing to Ushijima. And it was; it was very important to Ushijima to have his plants, something to tend to and love.

Something that didn’t expect much from him in return.

“Well, let’s go get you some plants then!” Kuroo announced, throwing off his covers with a flourish and _twirling_ out of his bed with just as much fanfare as Oikawa. Fingers snapping as Ushijima continued to just _stare_ at the other as he went about grabbing first his sweater, then jacket before making his way towards his shoes. “C’mon, let’s go get your adorable nerdy ass some equally adorable plants to make this place more _green_.”

He called him _adorable_. He acknowledged his butt.

Ushijima blinked, going through the motions of readying himself to the frigid air outside. Is this how he whisked Tsukishima into a relationship? Bewitching him with a storm of emotions then powdering him with pleasantries?

He called him adorable.

\--

Kuroo brought his phone up, leveling it with the plant that he was admiring before taking a picture and firing it off. Ushijima continued past him, towards a few of the cacti this tiny florist was selling. All her plants looked of beautiful health, clearly well-tended and loved dearly. It wasn’t huge, not as big as some of the other stores he had visited but the fact that it was only one person standing behind the counter (having slipped back there once they had entered the building) was excusable.

**Moonshine:** _  
So… you’re getting it?_

The message attached to the phone appeared under Ushijima’s nose before a tiny circular shaped cactus joined it. “Look even Tsukki agrees that it’s cute.” From what Ushijima could see there was no such words shared; as he tore his gaze from phone to person, the tiny smile made him sigh all the same.

“I was thinking of purchasing three cacti to sit on our window ledge,” Ushijima mumbled, turning and waving for the man to follow him with his tiny cacti companion. What he was really looking forwards in purchasing was his bonsai tree—a gift from his grandparents on his mother’s side. He had been looking forwards in purchasing his beloved maple bonsai shortly after moving in, but this would not be the store he’d be purchasing it at.

Kuroo trailed after him, breath puffing out against his neck and ear from how close he hovered. His breath would only halt its puffing when he’d glance down at his phone to check on a text. He paused, smirking when Kuroo bumped into his back and stumbled, clutching at Ushijima’s jacket. “You could’ve warned a guy,” he mumbled, nose appearing in his peripheral vision as he looking to see what vegetation they were looking at now. Potted flowers. “Are those irises?”

“They are,” Ushijima answered, finger sliding over the pot. He loved the colours of them, loved how the center would be so different yet the petals would bleed a vibrant colour. These ones were the popular purple; Ushijima had both yellow and white ones in his garden back at home.

And then there were the orchids right beside their selection. Ushijima smiled. “Go find another cactus then we’ll leave.” He could only carry so many with him home, so maybe the vast number of plants he was planning for would be purchased over a larger collection of time. Four plants should be enough to please him for the next few days—volleyball practice would be beginning soon and come this Sunday the other freshmen would be finally moving in as well.

So yes, four plants should do it. And then he could go pick up his maple bonsai tree that he ordered, and then there’s be five of his beloved plants to tend to.

\--

He was flooded with pictures throughout the day. Pictures of Kuroo, of Ushijima, of the pair. If he didn’t already know that _Ushijima_ was the one that was crushing on _him_ , Tsukishima would have been concerned. Would have been pushing for an explanation on _why_ this guy was suddenly Kuroo’s **NEW* BFF**.

Did Bokuto or Kenma know they ran the risk of replacement?

With the latest picture came the text of _“look at the mighty Ushijima tending to his child”_ , the picture very much showing the love and attention a parent would give their child. His touch to the orchid petals clearly soft, clearly gentle. Just a hint of a caress to match that small little smile pulling at his lips.

Tsukishima huffed, rolling his eyes and setting his phone back on the table. He ignored the questioning looks from Yamaguchi and Yachi. “Tsukki?” Tsukishima shook his head; he was being stupid. Kuroo loved him—loved him so much that it hurt when he went too long without the other’s touch, his kiss and his whispered breath against his ear.

He wasn’t _jealous_. He wasn’t _threatened_.

He was just…

He was just being Tsukishima Kei.


	8. Familiarly New Faces (That Doesn't Make Much Sense)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hinted character appears. Ushijima gets drunk. Other familiar characters appear 'cause of reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned that its exam time for me? 'Cause hi. I'm going to die. I have an exam this saturday and then one on monday and another on tuesday. Kill me?

Kuroo smiled at his computer screen with head propped up on his palm as he stared, studying the boy on the other end as he explained the latest shenanigans he was forced to witness. Tsukishima finally sighed, “so how’s life over there?”

Kuroo shrugged with his right shoulder. “Ushi is cool, kinda quiet, but cool. Don’t fuck with his plants and his things and he’s surprisingly eager to go out and explore when there’s not too many people. I think the two of you would get along actually.” Tsukishima’s frown made him pause, made his hand fall from his chin and his head tilt in confusion. “Kei what’s wrong?”

The person on the other end of the screen shook their head. “I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me anything, Kei.” Kei sighed, eyes sweeping around the room behind Kuroo’s head. “Ushijima went out to get our food a couple of minutes ago. Won’t be back for another ten to twenty minutes depending on if he’s walking or _‘walking’_.”

He quoted with his fingers, golden eyes rolling fondly at the character quirk. Ushijima liked to insist that _his_ type of walking was _perfectly fine_ and not in fact a mixture of speed walking and a slight jog. And yes, Kuroo’s long legs could handle it but it was in fact not _walking like a normal person_.

“He still has a crush on me right?” Kuroo nodded; from what he could pick up on, yes the guy still had a thing for Tsukishima. “And you’re getting friendly with him…” Tsukishima trailed off. Rich brown eyes drooping, glancing down at his hands in his lap as he played with his fingers.

“Kei,” Kuroo sighed, cooing out his name sweetly. “Kei—love, I’m not trying to do anything. I’m not going to push you to him, or him onto you. I wouldn’t betray your trust like that. But the guy is cool, he’s awkward and clumsy in social interactions that it’s at the point where I’m getting second-hand embarrassment!” Kuroo leaned in closer, clutching the sides of his laptop screen and staring into the camera. “Kei I love you. I love you so fucking much. I want you here by my side every second of the day—or me by yours. I want to go to sleep counting the freckles you still have high on your cheeks that you still have from summer.

I want to wake up to see your face beside mine, your eyelashes flushed up against your skin. So long that I can count each individual lash. I want to comb my hands through your hair and play with those soft blond curls.” Kuroo sighed, eyes falling close and he fell back into his chair. Hands grasping at his wild head of hair. “I can’t say ‘don’t be self-conscious’ or ‘don’t worry’. But I’m going to anyways—don’t worry Kei. You’re like… the best thing that’s happened to me and I’m not about to let that go. I don’t think I could even be that type of guy.”

A hand fell slamming against the desk, rattling everything on the small space—his computer, his lap, a little glass cat figurine, and another picture frame filled with his old Nekoma teammates with the large #1 on his jersey. “I just want to keep you informed and a part of my life here. So when you come and visit it’ll be less of a shock to your system like it was the few times you went to Tokyo.”

Tsukishima licked his lips, adjusting his glasses upon his nose. “I know Tetsu,” he finally spoke, voice soft as it carried through his speakers. “I think… I may just be jealous.” His cheeks erupted into a shade of bright pink, bleeding to almost a cherry red colour against his pale complexion. Kuroo perked up at the admittance, other hand falling away from his fringe to stare in awe at _Tsukishima admitting an emotion without much prompting_. Quick, someone take a picture! “Don’t make that face Tetsurou.”

“This is just my _normal face_ ,” the University student drawled, batting his eyelashes at Kei. “I have no _idea_ what you’re _implying_.”

“You know _exactly_ what I’m implying, you scheming cat.” Kuroo gasped, clutching at his heart. “Don’t try to say you’re a saint—you’re not. You’re the devil.”

Kuroo crooked grin evened out, “Devilishly handsome?” Tsukishima didn’t bother to reply.

\--

Move-in day.

A joyous time all around—or it was to Kuroo at least as he watched from their window at all the families and individual students lugging their crap into buildings while simultaneously attempting to pacify their family as they clung tearfully to the new student. “I wish you brought your parents with you,” Kuroo called to his roommate as the male finally decided to open the door, propping it open with a door wedge.

Kuroo didn’t even need to prompt him to go be friendly—look at the improvements they’re making already! Kuroo was so very proud.

“Why is that?”

Kuroo turned from the window, growing bored with the same chaos only with different people to fill the shoes, and towards the mess that was being made out in the hall. Boxes staked, suitcases in the way—it was a maze of people and luggage and it all smelt of panic. It was _beautiful_ ; Kuroo was a horrible person.

“I wanted to see you handle a clingy parent, but now that I think of it… I don’t think they’d do that. Maybe on the ride up, but I can’t see anyone of your blood doing _that_ ,” he pointed towards the window and the entailed mess below, “in public.”

Ushijima scoffed, “if my mother is the one you have in that mental image of yours then you need to correct it. My Father is the more emotional of my parents, though it’s hard to say by how much as he’s been in America for a few years.” Kuroo let out a hum, a note, of understanding. It made him pause before taking his seat upon his made bed.

Sheets and comforter _not_ tucked in, his sheets weren’t pulled military tight nor where they dull in colour. Yes, they were of _one_ solid colour but the shade of green was more along the likes of a pastel sea foam colouring. Even his comforter was a bright refreshing colour; a pale violet striped with white and a deep rich purple. The contrast between Kuroo’s things and Ushijima’s were striking; deep dark colours clashing against pale colouring.

“I’ve got some extended family in Europe—can’t say where but they’re closer to the Atlantic then the Pacific Ocean.” Kuroo poked his head out of their doorway, narrowing his eyes in a failed effort to lengthen his gaze. “Hey Ushi, you think any of your old rivals will become teammates?”

Wasn’t that a fear; a rival becoming a friend, or even a foe becoming an ally? To have someone you feel so strongly for in a negative fashion (if you see yourself in the latter situation) suddenly be forced to be viewed as an ally. Kuroo could only pray that one of those _snakes_ didn’t decide that Chuo’s volleyball team would hold promise for them—he didn’t want to deal with two-faced assholes on top of everything else.

“I don’t _have_ rivals.”

Kuroo’s brow arched up to his hairline, eyes staring at the other like he had lost all higher forms of brain functionality. “You’re a little shit,” he turned back to the hallway just as one of their neighbours were carrying a load of baggage to their door. “Hey!” he called to the male; dark spinney looking hair, average height, looked like an athlete from those arms and wide shoulders.

The boy in question set his suitcase down, pushing it against wall while he fished out his key card to open up his room. “Hey,” the boy greeted, dark eyes glancing between the door and Kuroo. He didn’t seem to have any family or friends lingering around him, waiting to be of any use.

“Need some help? My roomie and I were one of the ones who moved in before the rush so if you need any help lugging things in just say.” Kuroo shrugged, glancing behind him to his door to see if Ushijima had poked his head out or not. He did not.

The boy’s eyes widened, jaw slacked, stumbling over his words as his brain attempted to kick-start back into activity. “Uh, thanks dude. That’ll actually be really fuckin’ useful actually.” His eyes slid shut, head tilting ever the slightest to the left as he threw a small exhausted smile towards Kuroo. The lock clicking open just then, the key card finally doing its job and letting the boy into his room. He dragged his suitcase in after him, waving a hand at Kuroo for the boy to follow him (and maybe even find something to prop that door open).

“Name’s Iwaizumi by the way,” he threw back when the door didn’t fall shut behind him. Ignoring Kuroo to throw his suitcase onto one of the empty beds, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck after finally setting the thing down.

“Kuroo,” he swept a quick glance over the layout of the place before settling back on the now named male. “How much stuff do you have left to bring up?”

“About three boxes—food and other random shit.” The silent _go grab your roommate_ clear in the way he glanced towards the door pointedly. Kuroo chuckled; it was his turn to wave Iwaizumi after him, showing him the way to his room.

“So this is my lovely abode. You have cats and plants, and my roommate U—”

“Ushiwaka,” Iwaizumi stated. Ushijima jerked, startled, eyes snapping up from his book to the door where the two stood. Recognition crossed his features, shock bleeding away and back into that resting face.

“Iwaizumi.” Ushijima nodded, “I wasn’t sure if you were following Oikawa to Tokai.”

Iwaizumi shrugged, eyes but slits as he glared at the Super Ace seated comfortably on his bed. Book now securely resting on top of his light colour themed comforter. “I had applied to schools before he had—he didn’t want to spend post-secondary on the same campus.” His brows furrowed, forhead wrinkling as he chewed at the inside of his cheek.

Something about that Oikawa-Iwaizumi partnership didn’t part well before move in.

“Well as interesting as I find this little chat is, I promised that you,” he pointed to Ushijima, “and I would help Iwa-chan—”

“Oi! Don’t call me that!”

“—here out. Then I want to go grab a few drinks before our R.A comes around tomorrow and tries to get us to go be merry and bright for Frosh week.” Kuroo clapped his hands over the smaller boy’s shoulders, jostling him with his excitement. “Now let’s put this little feel fest on hold and get this poor poor boy moved in!”

\--

It had started with a cheer to volleyball, to that year and their success. Hopeful to make first string, for second string as well. It was a big school and third stringers didn’t have much of a chance to shine. Where good company kept the drinks flowing and the number to become muddled.

Actually, on second thought, it had all started when Kuroo had gone out to introduce himself to some of the others on their floor after leaving Iwaizumi and Ushijima alone in their room. He had stumbled upon a few other players here for volleyball; Kamasaki Yasushi, Semi Eita, and Nakashima Takeru. So really, it was a mixture of them and some slight askew thought that allowed him to meet the point in time that he found himself that very moment.

He squinted, vision wavering, swaying. Reaching out the pad of his index finger touched the other’s cheeks, gravity taking hold and his finger traced down to his lips. Sticking there for a moment longer before that too fell free and his arm fell to his side.

“Dude, you’re so fucked up.” The pretty one snickered, those plush lips pulled up in a grin. He wanted to kiss them—wanted to do the things he’s seen the boy’s partner do. To trace the curve of his brow, to run his hands through his hair, to wipe that smirk from his lips and that glint from those golden eyes. “Is this the first time you’ve drank?”

He nodded, brows coming together.

Why was he moving away? Oh, nope, he was back. No wait! Stop, no come—no, and we’re good again.

It seems that he was swaying while seated on said male’s bed, comfortable amongst the covers as the guys on the other bed (on _his_ bed) found the situation highly amusing. Who could say that they’ve seen the great Ushijima Wakatoshi drunk off his ass? They could. Thanks to the dude’s roommate (Iwaizumi could already tell that he’d make up for the three years of frustrations in volleyball with the shenanigans his neighbours would get into).

Even _the great_ Ushijima’s former setter, Semi, was laughing at the mixture of confusion and frazzled expression on the former ace’s face as his gaze bore deep into Kuroo’s pours. Studying every fine grain of possible dirt to mark his features—any hair he may have missed shaving his face, any nose hair he had not plucked.

“Careful Kuroo, he looks like he might devour you.” Semi brought his beer bottle to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid now that the shots were finished with. After all, the saying does go _beer before liquor, never been sicker._ And Semi abided by that rule.

Kuroo’s smirk crept to a category of a smile—Ushijima was watching it, every single muscle that moved! He wouldn’t have missed that twitch of the lip, the slowly forming stretch that showed just a sliver of pearly white teeth. His golden eyed gaze snapping to the said male, hand slapping down upon his shoulder and jostling him. “I don’t think you could handle me, big guy.”

He winked.

Shit, _Kuroo winked_.

He better have this saved in his memory when he wakes up tomorrow morning or he’s going to never forgive himself. Though… maybe a sober Ushijima would think the opposite (but _sober Ushijima_ wasn’t _here_ )…

He better remember every. Damn. Second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi was the character I planned for... the others just kinda popped up after I spent two hours figuring out the names of the #2 and #1 spikers are and where they were going to school. I decided that they wouldn't all be in the same place 'cause 1. some of them don't live close and 2. there are other really good schools that have strong(er/ish?) volleyball teams. 
> 
> I mean, Bokuto is also going to Tokai. So poor Kuroo doesn't get to go to school with his bro. But Tokai is known for their education (I want Bokuto to go into possibly coaching or maybe even teaching. And Oikawa is going there for education as well). 
> 
> But yeah, I have plans for Iwaizumi to pop in. He's going to be another one of Kuroo's bros. Poor Iwai-chan~ Just when he lost Oikawa he gained a Kuroo instead!


	9. Near Death Experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headaches are back and I feel so drained from finals still. I'm working on a one-shot for just the Ushijima-Kuroo dynamic that has Kuroo tattooed and in a band, and Ushijima as a business man who is overworked but won't acknowledge that. 
> 
> I wanted this chapter to be around 2K... but it wasn't happening. My brain isn't allowing me to think any further for this chapter. So I'm sorry, but I'll most likely have Tsukishima back by the next chapter. I'm missing that poor boy, so I think that might be why my brain is having problems coming up with this.

The group of six take up the booth plus a stolen chair from one of the tables close by, expressions dead and food nearly untouched before them. Ushijima looks the worst of all, though Kuroo was the only one actually _sleeping_. Using that poor man as a pillow as he poked at the pancakes in front of him.

“Dude, what happened to Kuroo?”

Iwaizumi could only shake his head. “Up talking Ushiwaka through his first trip to the bathroom,” the table _aaah_ ’s in understanding. The silent judgement and humor not lost on them at the hour between _fuck-if-they-knew_ and _fucking-ass-o’clock-in-the-morning_. Two days before their try outs for regular positions on the volleyball team, and the first day of Frosh week.

They shouldn’t have taken Kuroo up on the offer of beverages—shouldn’t have stayed later _after_ said beverages to laugh at a drunken Ushijima cuddled up with his roommate (Kuroo took _that_ like a total champ, only wrapping an arm around him and allowed him to use him as a body pillow to cuddle up with), take pictures of said spectacle, and get to know the other players that would be their teammates in a matter of days.

Really, other than this morning everything was fucking A+. Maybe even A++ material here.

The floor RA wanders over towards them, stopping to lean against the booth. “How you boys holding up?” Kuroo seems to wake at those words, slowly easing his head from Ushijima’s shoulders and sitting upright as slow as possible. He turns his head at an equally snail’s pace, dead golden eyes stare at the new comer.

He blinks, one eye at a time before grunting. “Hrgnn.” Turning back to face the boys opposite him, Kuroo blinks that same one eye at a time blink before epically face planting into his plate of pancakes and fruit. Syrup oozing out around his head.

“HOLY FUCK!” Iwaizumi shouts, chair squealing as he leapt out of it to save the poor asshole before he drowned in his breakfast. He first tried to grab him by his shoulders, the plate went with him. The second time, with help from both Nakashima and a very ill looking Ushijima, he pried the male out of his plate by his mess of hair while the other two either grabbed the plate or the body of said boy.

The RA stares in awe while it all unfolds, clearly not expecting to gather story material this early into Frosh week. “I know we’re on a drinking floor guys, but shit. That’s some fucked up mess there. How about you guys… maybe _not_ join in the activities today and go make sure this guy doesn’t die?”

The table nods; they wait until after the man leaves before Kamasaki and Semi slap hands together in a half-hearted high five. Kuroo’s syrup covered face scrunches, “did I do it?”

“Yeah dude, though the near death experience could have been avoided if he got a look at Ushiwaka.” The teen in question only growing paler as the scent of food rolled his already uneasy stomach. “Dude looks like he’ll hurl again.”

Kuroo snorts, “Someone take a picture of this.” He tiredly raises his thumb up, voice lethargic as all hell.  “Post it or something. Label it something cool,” he was never one to pass up a moment of embarrassment (his or others) just because of some quote-‘n-quote _‘near death experience’_. Pft.

Yolo, right?

“Get up! Get up get up!!” Kamasaki screamed, scrabbling to get out of the hurl zone when Ushijima’s face pitched to a solid horrid green colour. The group scattered at that, even the ever exhausted Kuroo scampered away from the splash zone as soon as Ushijima’s throat gurgled, shoulders hunching up to his neck as he dry heaved.

“Clean up on aisle five!” Semi shouted pointing to their table just in the nick of time for all those close by to witness Ushijima erupt onto Kuroo’s near-murder plate all that he had attempted to stomach within the last thirty minutes.

“Oh fuck!”

“Eww!!”

\--

Maybe it was wrong of him to not ask his former teammates where they planned on going post high school, maybe he should take a so-called _page_ from Kuroo’s book and seemingly go out of his way to seek others out. Maybe he should learn to communicate better—after all, what if Volleyball were to one day fail him?

Chou was a very popular school choice for volleyball, they had just recently won the championships in 2015 and they hold many other wins throughout Japanese University history of volleyball. He wouldn’t be surprised if the _other two_ had ignored their other choices in favour of playing here—though, it might not be likely as there’s other renowned schools closer to home than Chou.

He was taking business here at Chou for that very reason (both volleyball and the possibility of _what if_ ). That little cushion of protection that he could use to gain a career with his family’s business. Maybe it was the gurgle of his stomach, or the slight fuzz still lingering in the corners of his sight, but that little _what if_ and those little… _mistakes_ were starting to seem bigger now that it was just the two of them again in their quiet little dorm room.

“Kuroo,” he spoke, “do you think there’s something _wrong_ with me?” Those tiny insecurities do in fact grace his presence in his worst moments—it doesn’t happen often, and it might not last for very long, but he had them all the same. They liked to circle around the topic of finding significant others, normally after some family event where his lack of relationship would be brought up again. They liked to circle around the topic of injury when he’d push himself a little too hard and his body would feel it days later.

The blankets shuffled, a head popping out from beneath the red comforter. Golden eyes blinking, staring at him from his burrito wrapped sleeping style of the day. “Nah,” he drawled suddenly, just as suddenly as Ushijima had voiced his fears. “You’re a lil’ awkward, but that’s part of your charm. You’ll get comfortable talking to people the more you do it.” Ushijima could see the blankets rise and fall like the male was shrugging. “We have some guys to hang out with, I plan on having you meet a few of my friends. Seriously, if you’re worried about being all _ehh_ around people I’ll help.”

“I can’t be pleasant to be around, Kuroo.”

The male’s golden yellow eyes narrowed, glaring at him. “You shut that mouth. It’s the hangover saying that shit—you’re awesome. Trust me, I’m a _great_ judge of character!” He wiggled a hand free, holding his closed fist towards Ushijima. “I’ll do that Naruto promise dude, I will fucking shout believe it at the top of my lungs to prove how much of a cool dude I think you are.”

Ushijima’s head pounded, warning him against the idea. But the feeling in his gut? That little voice in his head? Yeah, that stopped. “No. But thank you Kuroo.”

That first turned into a thumbs up before falling, fingers grazing the floor as his arm swayed. “No sweat, man. Everyone has their moments.” He buried his head back into his mountain of pillows, his blanket falling back to cover his head.

Ushijima remained like that, staring at the lump of a man in the bed opposite. The promise of something so small, so meaningful made a gush of air puff out through his nose as he exhaled. Brown eyes falling shut; a nap was sounding like an excellent idea.

\--

Kuroo got his fist bump eventually in the form of walking onto the court and Ushijima tossing a ball towards him. Catching the ball between two hands, Kuroo grinned. “Feels good to be on the court again, no?” Ushijima nodded, watching the male twirl the yellow and blue ball between his hands. “Let’s warm up,” Kuroo nodded towards some of the others stretching out.

The larger of the two followed a step behind, brown eyes sweeping over the competition (only until he made first string, then they no longer needed to be seen as such)—even then, calling them competition _could_ be a stretch. He couldn’t say for sure, maybe they had improved or maybe he just hadn’t bothered to watch anyone that wasn’t beneficial to his own game.

“Hey!” Kuroo grinned, nodding at the two guys closest to them. They turned, smiling back up at him and voiced their own greeting.

“You’re one of the freshmen, name’s Kuroko.” The male with dyed blond hair clasped hands with Kuroo, allowing the younger to pull him up. He wasn’t as tall as Kuroo, and thus not as tall as Ushijima in extension, but they could see experience in his eyes as he looked them over. “And this is Ushijima,” Kuroko’s attention snapped to the male. Dyed sandy blond hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head.

Kuroko’s friend rolled his eyes, snorting at his friend’s actions. “It’s a pleasure to have you two here. I’m Yamazaki, fourth year physical therapy major.” Now _he_ was tall, built much like Ushijima and held himself very much how Wing Spikers tended to do. Kuroko rolled his eyes, lips moving in a silent mimic of the other. “Don’t be like that Kuroko, you’re jealous.”

The dyed blond stuck his tongue out, “I just hate how confident you are. There’s a difference. Just ‘cause you’re Vice Captain doesn’t mean you’re first string.” Kuroo glanced to his roommate, raising his brow and gesturing to the two before him. _Totally married_ , he mouthed.

It earned a very rare, very tiny smile from Ushijima before he glanced away. Before walking away from the group to do his own stretches—he needed to get that engine started, needed to get those coals shoveled in.

“Well thanks for the chat! I’m going to warm up.” He heard Kuroo call from behind him, could hear him jog to catch up to his long legged strides to the corner of the gym where no one found themselves. They sat, working to stretch their back, legs and hamstrings first before they’d rise to work on ankles and arms. They stretched in silence, Ushijima’s concentrated frown keeping Kuroo from commenting—other that once to comment on form.

“Hold that pose longer,” he had said, chest nearly flat against the gym floor with his hands far past his toes. Ushijima did as he said the next rep, the tips of his ears red when he caught a glimpse of Kuroo’s briefs when his shorts shifted oddly.


	10. Time Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We mark another couple days off to this new school year. Just another day, another day, followed by another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not everything can be all exciting all the time, unfortunately. And not everything about relationships is pretty. So, I'm hoping to get some of the "bad" stuff out of the way before the three get together so there's less shit for them to deal with. 
> 
> Plus, I've been wanting to introduce Kuroo's aunt for a long ass time. She's going to come back from time to time. She's like... Kuroo's go-to for LGBTQ+ knowledge if he wants actual life experience instead of trusting the web. (I mean, its great and all but sometimes you just want to hear these things from a person) 
> 
> Also! New summery!! Now more updated to fit with this timeline. Its fitting. More so than the one before, I feel at least.

Second string. Kuroo knocked shot glasses with the other boys from his floor that finally heard back. Sitting spread out along Semi and his roommate’s bed, the group of five drank to drown out that bitter feeling. To smoother that annoyance so all that would remain when they’d roll out of bed for practice tomorrow would be pride and enthusiasm.

Iwaizumi sighed, filling up the second round of shots. They had made second string, all but Ushijima. The title of Super Ace reigning supreme yet again with his first string title. The two former Captains seemed to be taking it all in stride—at least to those that did not know them. Inside Kuroo wasn’t looking forward to going back in his room; he didn’t want to feel that burning pit of jealousy, but it was there all the same. No matter what he told himself it wouldn’t lessen, he was proud of his roommate—happy for him.

But it was that kind of happiness that came from an understanding on how much the person worked for that position. It still felt hallow.

“I’m not all that surprised,” Semi circled the shot glass with his index finger. Taking hold of the custom shot glass and downing the contents yet again without so much of a hint of discomfort. It was a bittersweet sensation—that silver metal feeling that most Olympic athletes seemed to test positive for. That _almost_ feeling, but still happy that they came close.

Kamasaki snorted, “so far all I see in our future is practice games.” He scowled down at the clear liquid. “Would it been too much of an asshole move to hope that I get subbed in if someone gets injured?” Nakashima smacked him over the head, scolding him for such poor behaviour. “I’m not saying that I _want_ them to get hurt! It was just a question!”

Iwaizumi sighed. All he could do was sigh—another loss to Ushijima. Another shot to further glory squash beneath his heel. “I still want to spike a ball into that smug prick face of his,” he muttered, glaring at the bottle of vodka sitting between them.

They had the choice between tequila and vodka; they saved the tequila for something to celebrate over… and something to feed Ushijima. There were different types of drunk after all—tequila drunk was an _experience_.

“How about I kill his new fern. I’ll leave a suicide note signed by the plant and everything,” Kuroo voiced, patting his neighbour’s back. At least Kuroo had a way to spitefully get him back; maybe prank him, maybe mess with his plants. Though what he just mentioned seemed far too cruel and he’d feel bad about seconds after he killed the thing. “On second thought, dye his hair green? He’ll look at me all sad ‘n shit and I’m not putting up with that.”

\--

Tsukishima rolled over sometime during the night, finding himself waking up to the blurred view of his ceiling rather than the wall or blankets wrapped around his head. It’s still dark, the birds still sleeping and the sun still hidden. He rolls over, reaching out to fumble with his phone. Bringing the device closer to check the time—it’s 1AM.

It’s one in the morning and he doesn’t know why he woke up; there’s no messages on his phone, his family is sound asleep and there’s no tree close enough to his window to brush against. He doesn’t think its stress—how could it be stress when the new semester had just started two days ago? He doesn’t feel anything wrong with him, no heartburn, no headache, no growing pains—it doesn’t make sense.

He’s not that romantic to assume that he woke himself up because he _missed_ someone—or was _lonely_. He had talked to Kuroo on the phone before going to bed!

He set his phone back onto the nightstand, rolling over and dragging his blankets back above his head. It made no sense for him to be awake at this time, and because of that he _wasn’t_ going to remain awake any longer than necessary. He had to get ready for school in a few hours—volleyball practice for the second and third years were still active, and by the end of the week they’ll have their annual first year match and start practicing with the first years.

\--

He has exhausted.

It was hell just to keep his eyes open, to keep his attention on teacher at the front of the room and not face planting his desk and calling it a day. It was only second period, still two more periods afterwards before he could possibly spare the thought of sleeping through lunch before having to wake for his last two. He should have looked into a school with five classes instead—at least then he might have more room for sleep.

The worst part might just be the fact that he was without anyone to bother with mooching notes from if he were to sleep (possibly even through the period before or after lunch), only Yachi would’ve been intelligent enough for his classes and she was in the other class. Again. Like the world was just testing him.

His phone vibrated—like some higher calling, some unknown presence to assist him through his hour of need—jarring him out of his near-slumber stasis. That peculiar space between unconscious and conscious; he eyed the teacher, her back turned to the class as she wrote upon the board, fishing out his phone from his pocket.

 **Bedhead Cat:** _  
So, when can I kick Ushi-chan out of the room so I can have you all to myself~_ ╰(・∇・╰)

Tsukishima glanced up from his lap, tucking his phone back into his pant pocket unanswered. A blush slowly developing upon his cheeks as he took the hint—that was a booty call. That was _most certainly_ a booty call. Why was Tsukishima even thinking about accepting?

Sure, his family had the money for him to travel there. He could go this Saturday after classes—his school only had three classes on Saturday that ran for one full hour at a time (instead of his normal fifty minute classes). He even had the means to buy a bullet train ticket, getting him there all the quicker— _shit_.

Tsukishima slowly fished out his phone again, sparring the teacher another glance as he went about replying.

**Tsukishima Kei:** _  
I’ll leave Saturday after class. Bullet train. It better just be us there._

The response came before he could slip his phone away, forgetting about his plans until lunch when Kuroo would no doubt hound him for information; what he’d be wearing (its happened before), if he was bringing anything, if he was bringing anything _sexy_ (he was a _high school student_ and he was from _the country_. He didn’t exactly have a lot of opportunity for sexy things), if Kuroo could keep him in bed the whole day (yes, that’s why Tsukishima was coming down. Not just to see him but to… well, _see him_. All of him. In a very intimate fashion).

**Bedhead Cat:** _  
He might just be there to sleep. But it’ll just be you and me baby all day. All weekend. I looked up this cool new trick to try when I’m eating you out—_

Tsukishima stopped right there. Completely turning off his phone and returning it to his pocket before his cheer ripened face gave away the fact that _something_ was going on with him. Why did Kuroo suddenly have to remind him of his grand love of eating ass? Tsukishima couldn’t understand the boy’s fascination with it—it was an asshole, it was disgusting. Sure, it made him feel absolutely fantastic, but that meant nothing to Tsukishima.

You wouldn’t see _him_ eating out the older male. No, _he_ had standards.

\--

The woman opposite him gave him a once over, golden eyes lingering upon his physique, his bags beneath his eyes. “You still sleeping those three hour stretches?” she inquired, taking a sip of the coffee she had left to sit on the table between them. Before this moment she had only hummed and ha’ed in response to his brief rundown on the things he’s been through since the last time they’ve spoke.

Kuroo scratched at the back of his head, “yeah. Roommate needs his sleep during the night or he can’t function well that day.” He had used to sleep a lot less in high school, even in middle school. It was when his sleeping habits truly began to morph.

The woman shook her head fondly, “I swear you become more and more like me every day—your Dad won’t be thrilled.” She threw him a teasing wink; it was their thing. She used to joke that he was her son and that his parents stole him away from her from his crib. Now, it would have stuck with wee lil’ Tetsurou when he was a kid if not for the fact that he had discovered the tapping of his own birth (why mom and dad, why?) and had watched it thinking it was something else (poor tiny Tetsurou, too tiny and pure for the world).

But she was his best, and only, Auntie and Kuroo loved her dearly. She was his best friend, his most trusted advisor when it came to relationships, he had even come out as bisexual to her first before everyone else (before _Kenma_ ). She had been the one to listen to him rant about _this blond from Myagi with really nice legs and fluffy hair_. She had been the one to talk him out of a panic that was their first date.

“How’s Sakura and Kimiko?” His Auntie’s wife and girlfriend. Sakura had been the one who wanted to get married while Kimiko didn’t want to bother with the paperwork, let alone the problems from this country. Kuroo remembered one of the many conversations on that couch of theirs, listening to Kimiko go on about how she wouldn’t get married until her country acknowledged the right for her to marry not only one, but _two_ women.

Kuroo’s Auntie shrugged. “Busy. Honeymoon phase is over so we gotta get back into the swing of ‘real life responsibilities’,” she stuck her tongue out, “yuck.” The student chuckled, leaning forward to pluck his own caffeinated beverage from the rounded café table top. “But we’re doing good. Happy, together. Over-worked but good.”

Both Kuroo’s smiled at one another, happy to hear that despite some large changed everything was still the same. That everything was as it was supposed to be.


	11. Notice me Senpai~

“Senpai!” the first year bent at the waist, torso parallel to the gym floor. Tsukishima stared, blinking slowly as shock quickly fled from his posture. He had grown again since the winter break, now closer to 194cm than his earlier 190cm. He had already heard all about it from Noya and Hinata, both of them still stagnant around the height of 160cm.

They had seven first years that year; the fact that they had made it to Nationals was a huge feat in the eyes of the many. It had made many more avid volleyball players think to come to their school to play; their changes were better at starting after all. Karasuno was still a small team.

The second tallest of the bunch was a 175cm tall setter that butted heads with Kageyama as soon as his position was stated. If the genius setter didn’t already have a president of growing far too competitive with other setters, Tsukishima would have hoped they just simply didn’t get along—too bad it didn’t seem to be the case.

A second first year joined alongside his teammate, bowing low to appease his upperclassmen. “Please teach us how to be better blockers! Coach said you were the best to learn from!” They did have taller first years; the shortest was a libero at 164.8cm and the tallest being a 180cm wing spiker. “Please senpai!”

Yamaguchi bit at his knuckles, fighting back the grin that threatened to evolve into a full scale laughing fit. Tanaka and Hinata both perked up at the commotion, the shouts of ‘senpai’ easily recognizable from across the gym. “Oi! Don’t call that stingyshima senpai!” Hinata called, jumping and leaping to incredible heights for his still tiny body.

Tsukishima crossed his arms over his body, chin raised as he took in the view. The frustrations pouring off Hinata; _ah yes_. “If I must,” he wasn’t so above assisting a younger if it meant that they’d not _only_ make it to nationals, but also _win it_. He walked between their still bowed forms, arms falling to his side as he made his way onto the court.

The two first years were slow to straighten, looking to each other in open shock before quickly scurrying after him. He could see a few others, Hinata included, scoot in to hear and hints he’d give them. Tsukishima had been thinking about asking Kuroo for more tips when he went to visit him by the end of the week, his thought only solidifying into a plan—Kuroo _owed him_. With all the time he’d been spending with his roommate and new friends; it’ll only be fair of him to demand compensation.

“I refuse to teach guess blocking. It’s pathetic. It’s unreliable. Don’t do it,” Yamaguchi shrunk at the harsh tone, grimacing along with a few of the other upperclassmen. Tsukishima was making a jab at the red headed blocker from last year; the comment might have just gone over their head—but that smug face stuck with Tsukishima. Rubbing that boy’s face in had been almost as good as blocking Ushijima. _Almost_.

“Then what kind of blocking are we doing?”

Maybe it was about time to put names to these first years; as much as Tsukishima would like to deny _knowing_ them, he did in fact know each one by their name. He even knew their playing style. After observing them playing it was only natural to gather a bit about them—and Tsukishima prided himself in his knowledge.

The first year setter was Riku. All 175cm with narrowed deep green eyes, and light brown skin. He reminded Tsukishima of Kenma while they played; always watching. The other was the 164.8cm libero with dyed auburn loose curled hair, he typically pinned his hair back with a mixture of brightly coloured bobby pins and a solid black hairband (or borrowed something from Yachi who had started carrying more and more hair pins now that not only the first years were running around with longer hair but so was Yamaguchi’s bangs). He had been fondly renamed to Matsu by the majority of the club, while Tsukishima still firmly referred to him as Matsuoka. There were the twins that the only big difference between the pair was that Tatsuya was much taller at 180cm while his twin Tetsuya not only stood at 169.7cm but he constantly kept his hair tied up in a ponytail. Other than those two points they both had the same deep blue eyes and solid black hair.

Yoshida was shy, often keeping to himself or sticking with the twins. He was also just shy of 170cm; his brown hair and matching chocolate eyes helping him stick to the crowd. He reminded him of Yachi when she had first joined as _possible_ manager. Jumping at anything and everything (now she stands proudly talking with Coach Ukai and Sensei about ways to increase their funding). The last two were joined at the hip, the next odd ball duo in the making, though less showy. The spats between Sato and Saito could range from anything from their names to the other stealing some of their food during lunch—nothing was safe.

Those two, Sato and Saito, were the ones that had bowed. Sato’s skin paler than Saito’s, his features sharper. Hazel eyes watching Tsukishima like a hawk; not even when his blond hair slipped from the sparkly snowflake barrette that he borrowed from Yachi was enough to steal his attention. Saito glanced over at his companion, brown eyes narrowing when the slightly smaller of the pair started to vibrate with excitement—his own black hair pulled back and away from his face with many of Yachi’s hair accessories.

“Read blocking.”

Hinata joined them then, slipping under the net to push his way between the two (taller) first years. “Oh! Is that what it’s called? The stuff we learned with Kuroo-san, Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san?” He had be vibrating with boundless energy since learning that yes, they’d be joining the Tokyo schools again that year—on top of learning that they’d be having more practice matches against a number of other schools since they had made it to nationals.

Tsukishima shrugged with only one shoulder. “I wouldn’t say that.” Yes, he learned a great deal from Kuroo—a surprising amount really. But it hadn’t been enough at the time. He had practiced with his brother during the winter break, when he hadn’t been stolen away by the others in his grade that he wouldn’t say were his friends (but he wouldn’t deny it either).

Hinata stuck his tongue out. “Oh!! Oh!” His eyes widened, limbs flailing as his (tiny, like the rest of him) brain thought of _something_. “Will they be at the practice game against Nekoma?!” _That_ gained a few more heads turned towards them.

“Who?”

“Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san!” Hinata exclaimed, again his noodle like arms waving around. This time smacking against Saito and Sato causing both to flinch and step away from their senpai’s flailing body. “You have to have them join! Or watch! They’re going to really good Universities right?! Maybe they could teach us more stuff!!”

Now wouldn’t that be a thought.

\--

Like a good roommate (unlike Iwaizumi’s who Kuroo had just heard a whole rant about when the guy, the roommate in this situation, hadn’t bothered to warn someone that he had a _special friend_ with him in the room and both Iwaizumi and he walked in on the deed) Kuroo brought up the fact that Tsukishima was coming down well in advance. Leaving the other boy with enough time to plan what he’d do—he had a class around that time so there was approximately two hours figured out for him.  

“I could ask to see if the guys are going to gym around that time if you want someone to keep you company?” Ushijima shook his head, his bottle of water draining into one of his prized plants. Kuroo frowned, “I’m sorry dude.”

The taller teen paused, head tilting for a slip second before he seemed to correct his posture and continue on with his watering. Shaking the bottle till the very last drop was released, Ushijima finally set it down, turning towards his roommate. “You don’t owe me an apology, Kuroo. I truly don’t mind.”

Kuroo stared at him, his normal resting smirk absent from his face. Studying the other male before him; watching, ever watching. Golden eyes blinking, a dark brow raised in question. He crossed his legs, dragging one of his many pillows from the head of his bed to cover his lap, long calloused fingers picking at it. “But you like—” he made a gesture first towards the framed picture that Ushijima made sure that he didn’t hide before pursing his lips, pausing before his arms raised above his head. Holding it about a good three to four centimetres above his head so he could round his fingers to make crude glasses with them.

Kuroo still only thought he… Ushijima frowned. _He thinks it’s just Tsukishima_. Though he couldn’t say for certain, he didn’t want to assume, but there was something. It was _different_ —different but so very much the same as with Tsukishima. He huffed, shaking his head. “Kuroo, I mean it. I’m happy for you and your partner; I’m happy that you’re _both_ happy.” His deep voice seemed to hang in the air between them.

The silence seemed to drag on as the pair stared at each other. Both attempting to convey their own points; sticking to their guns, as it may. Kuroo finally eased off; sighing, the former Nekoma Captain tossed his pillow back towards the mountain of them. Standing up, he crossed the small distance between them.

Ushijima tensed when he felt the male’s arm wrap around his shoulder, his other reaching round to pat his back. “You’re a truly great guy,” Kuroo whispered. Holding his roommate tightly, unsuspectingly becoming the cause of Ushijima’s next mental meltdown.


End file.
